Lifeloose poke fun at glossy city romance on trashy electroclash “07XXXXXXXXX”

“I just wanna get your number in my telephone” is sung sultry and deadpan over a punchy bass beat, with the Motorola ringtone planted throughout “07XXXXXXXXX” like an addictive synth hook. The bigger picture quickly becomes clear, though: “I just wanna get you talking all anglophone.”

The stars behind Lifeloose, Aldi Ho and Josie Silverman, satirise and imagine themselves indulging in the debauched tropes of capital city club romance, on a song fit for moving wildly on the dance floor. “We thought that it’d be perfect for this talking phase culture that’s plaguing our generation right now,” Ho says. “Also, it’s funny because we never get hoes.”

Striking a balance of satire and earnestness is at the heart of Lifeloose; their peculiarity perhaps teeters on the line between being juvenile and cool. But as their hedonistic music is so perfect for neck-deep inebriation at the function, any critique disappears. This is music to make you move without a second thought. Lifeloose have landed at a time when electro-pop is all the rage once again, but feed on electroclash at the turn of the millennium; think Peaches and the sea of nu rave during bloghouse. It’s weird, vulgar, humorous, raw, and most importantly, fun.

Underground Memphis rapper Lil Sko’s mixtape U Know Tha Sko comes up as a reference point. “Get ready for the Lifeloose rap album… like in two years,” Silverman teases. So does musical satirist Tom Lehrer’s body of work. “I love that guy. I did one of his songs for my final recital,” Ho says. “Satire is so important to us.”

So, how did Lifeloose begin their mission? Their story is a head-scratcher at first; Ho and Silverman met at Guildhall Music School, studying opera and electronic music respectively. “We met in first year but didn’t get on. But then in second year, we went dumpster diving and bonded heavily over bins,” Silverman says.

“Then in third year, we started having sleepovers,” Ho adds.

“And we made a song about this guy called Tony,” Silverman continues.

“And the rest… we don’t kiss and tell,” Ho concludes.

Whatever truth lies in that exchange must be smothered by who knows how many layers of irony, but that speaks to Lifeloose serving as an escape from neatness and pretension. In fact, their combined musical educations are totally non-existent when it comes to cooking up dance music.

“We like to hypnotise ourselves with so much brainrot that our music can be authentically from our collective subconsciousness,” Ho muses. Silverman agrees, “We don’t really think about genre or anything much; we just try and make each other laugh.”

As alluded to earlier, Lifeloose don’t belong in the headphones, but in the club instead. “07XXXXXXXXX” is only their second single, but their high-energy live show has been enough to score them a relentless touring schedule. They’ve supported Fat Dog, RIP Magic, and Coupdekat, the latter of whom’s similarly inspired by 2000s electro-pop. “We just want people to party with us,” Ho says. “It gets lonely when it’s just the two of us.”

With a crowd at their fingertips, they love seeing people dance to their tracks and “sharing [their] delirium,” as Silverman puts it. Ho says the best part about playing live is being able to do whatever. “We improv a lot, and shit all over it with love. It’s always good to make the audience do things too.”

What comes next for Lifeloose can be described with one word: more. “A stupidly good EP, if we may say so ourselves… and then a big fat album,” Silverman says without modesty. “We are so excited, we want to make loads of albums. Hold tight bitches!” She then asks for their sound engineer Eddie’s two cents. “Breakdowns, psychologically; dub, sonically. Solid, liquid, gas.” They’re covering all bases, it sounds. Ho also chips in: “Money, fame, sex. Also friendship and self-discovery.”

More is more, and clearly that’s what makes Lifeloose work.